


Nothing quite like the feel of something new

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Kink!verse [7]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: (but only to slow things down a bit), A smattering of praise kink, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Canon Compliant, Episode: s04e06 Open Mic, First Time Bottoming, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Lots of (non-sexual) teasing each other in this one, M/M, Orgasm Delay, POV David Rose, Patrick Brewer: Service Top, Safeword Use, Thirsty Bottom Patrick Brewer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:33:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25032511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: When David shoves Patrick against the wall of the stockroom and kisses the remnants of Tina Turner off his tongue, he genuinely doesn’t think there’s room in his body for any more emotion with everything that’s swirling around him right now. But when the sound of applause interrupts them and Patrick pulls away and murmurs, “Ray’s away tonight, and I really want you to fuck me,” it turns out a bit of space can be carved out after all, for anticipatory impatience.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Kink!verse [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768552
Comments: 44
Kudos: 265





	Nothing quite like the feel of something new

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to another kink!verse instalment! Reading the earlier stories is not required (though, as the very biased author I obviously recommend it); they stand alone and are essentially canon-compliant (just with a different first meeting and their relationship being a month longer than canon) so that folks can tap out of any kinks/fetishes/etc that aren't for them as we go.
> 
> Please assume that if you don't see something being negotiated on-screen, they've discussed it off-screen. Also, just a reminder to please not take your kink advice from fanfic. Do your research first, and not from AO3.
> 
> Title is from Nine Inch Nails.

When David shoves Patrick against the wall of the stockroom and kisses the remnants of Tina Turner off his tongue, he genuinely doesn’t think there’s room in his body for any more emotion with everything that’s swirling around him right now. But when the sound of applause interrupts them and Patrick pulls away and murmurs, “Ray’s away tonight, and I really want you to fuck me,” it turns out a bit of space can be carved out after all, for anticipatory impatience. 

Somehow he makes it through Bob’s beat poetry and Twyla’s interpretive dance and Roland’s comedy routine and a few other performances (for lack of a better word) by people he doesn’t really know. And then everyone wants to congratulate them on a great event, which is all very well but don’t they know David and Patrick have some desperately needed privacy waiting for them as soon as they can leave?

Finally, they do manage to usher everyone out and clean up in record time, apparently sharing an unvoiced but mutual understanding that if they touch each other right now it will ultimately take them longer to get home. They eventually manage to clean up the mess left by their enthusiastic audience, and the drive to Patrick’s is filled with a crackling heat. 

When they arrive, David crowds up behind Patrick on the porch while he fumbles with the keys before finally getting the door unlocked, and David follows him into the blissfully silent house. “Mm, no Ray,” he says appreciatively, and Patrick chuckles. 

“Yeah, it was really nice of him to clear out for the night,” he replies, and then freezes. David stares at the flush creeping up his neck, unable to hold in a grin. 

“You  _ asked  _ Ray to leave tonight? You kicked him out of his own house? What did you say, ‘Hey, Ray, I’d quite like David to give it to me for the first time and we’ll need privacy for that’?”

“I don’t think I used those exact words…”

“And you were that confident that your musical performance was going to get you good and fucked, were you?”

Patrick quirks a smile, but it’s a little shyer than David’s used to seeing from him. “I was… 87% sure,” he says hesitantly. “But I didn’t totally discount the possibility that you’d hate it, and I’d need the privacy here to… lose my mind a little bit.”

David’s heart clenches at this admission. “Well, to be very clear,” he says, looping his arms over Patrick’s shoulders, “I definitely think you’re going to lose your mind a little bit.” He bends down to murmur in Patrick’s ear. “Take what you need, honey.”

He can see Patrick’s throat working as he swallows hard. “David?”

“Yes, Patrick?”

“Get in the shower.”

* * *

Patrick joins him for the first part of his shower, rebuffing him every time his hands start to wander, and once he’s done he leaves David to finish up, exiting the bathroom without so much as a modesty towel. When he’s ready David decides to do the same, drying himself off before walking into Patrick’s bedroom stark naked where he stops dead in the doorway as he takes in the scene in front of him. Patrick is leaning against the wall, faux-casual in that way that David recognises as him really wishing he had pockets to jam his hands into; there’s lube and a condom sitting on the pillow, and the wrist restraints aren’t really a surprise, but—

“I thought you said there was no need for all this?” he asks, finally convincing his legs to carry him over to the bed so he can pick up the blue butt plug sitting there. It’s a good size, almost as thick as David himself, and the flash of a mental image he gets of Patrick slowly working this into himself is very nice indeed. 

Patrick tilts his head. “Oh, that isn’t for me,” he says. “It’s for you.”

David’s mouth drops open. 

“I’m going to tie you up,” Patrick continues steadily. “I’m going to finger you open until you’re begging for it. I’m going to fill you up with that plug. Then I’m going to ride you, and you’re not going to come until I’m done.”

“Holy shit,” David whispers, his cock filling at the words. “Um, small flaw, though. If I’m tied up, how am I meant to finger  _ you  _ open?”

“Oh,” Patrick says casually. “I took care of that already. While you were still in the bathroom.”

David’s gaze flicks from Patrick to the lube and back again. “Fuck me.” 

“No, the other way around,” Patrick says with a grin. “I take it that’s a green?”

“That is a big, fat fucking green,” David murmurs in response. 

Patrick pushes himself off the wall and steps into David’s space, his hands resting lightly on David’s hips as he kisses him deeply. As soon as David brings his hands up to touch Patrick in return, though, he steps away.

“Get on the bed, David,” is all he says, and David scrambles to obey. He lies back, head on the pillow with his wrists resting on the headboard. Patrick wraps one cuff around his wrist and attaches it to the bed, steady and careful as always as he checks the tightness and the angle of David’s arm, then he moves around the bed to do the same to the other side. Once he’s done, he grabs the lube and settles on the bed between David’s legs. 

Being tied up while Patrick fingers him is achingly, perfectly familiar, but that doesn’t stop it driving David to the point of distraction every time. His hands are like the rest of him, precise and determined, and he works David open with smooth, unhurried movements that make David want to beg for more and live in this moment forever, all at once. By the time Patrick has worked three fingers into him David is flushed and panting, pulling against the restraints without even realising every time Patrick brushes up against his prostate.

“Please,” he moans. “Patrick, please, I need it, please.”

Patrick pulls his fingers out steadily, pressing a quick kiss to David’s thigh as he does so. He picks up the plug and coats it liberally in lube before pressing it to David’s entrance and pushing forward a little. As the tip slips past his rim he hisses, and Patrick hooks a hand under his leg to bend his knee. It does make the angle a little easier and Patrick works the rest of the plug in steadily until it’s all the way in, filling him up. He lowers his leg and groans at the pressure, dick throbbing as he settles back into the mattress.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he moans, wiggling a little until the plug is in exactly the right spot. Patrick watches him move even as he grabs the condom and tears it open and when he rolls it down onto him David grits his teeth, thrusting up into the touch.

“You all right there, David?” Patrick teases, and David huffs out a frustrated breath. 

“Okay. This is your first time bottoming, and you should take all the time you need and not rush, like, at all. And now that I’m on record as trying to be a good person…” he trails off to take a shaky breath while Patrick looks at him with ill-concealed amusement. “And bearing in mind that you should definitely listen to those very correct things I’ve just told you, and ignore what I’m about to say — please,  _ please _ get on my dick, holy  _ fuck.” _

Patrick bursts out laughing, his eyes crinkling up at the corners as he presses his hands to his thighs to steady himself. It’s a new and welcome feeling for David, to be able to listen to his partner laugh during sex and not feel like it’s directed at him — or at least not in a cruel way, because Patrick is absolutely, one hundred percent laughing at David right now and he doesn’t mind at all. 

“But you’re not going to come until I do, right?” Patrick says when he’s gotten himself under control.

“Honestly? Unclear.”

“You’re not.” Patrick has picked up the lube again, pouring a generous amount into his hand before stroking it over David’s erection and God, even that light, slow touch has him trembling. He clenches, trying desperately to control himself, but that just causes the plug to press against the exact right spot and he gasps. “You’re not, because I asked you not to. Because you said you wanted me to take what I need. And what I need is to ride you until I come.” 

David has been with people before who have tried to put on ridiculous dominant voices in bed, and it’s always yanked him out of the moment. But Patrick asks him to do things like count the number of crop strokes or get naked or not come in the same tone he uses when he asks David to restock the cologne or balance the till or pick up lunch and it is incredibly fucking hot precisely  _ because _ it’s the same Patrick he gets outside of the bedroom. It has resulted in more than one inconvenient erection at work, but that’s a small price to pay. 

“Okay,” he whispers. “Green.” 

“Good boy,” Patrick says quietly and David bites his lip, because that is definitely not helping. He crawls up David’s body to kiss him fiercely, all tongue and clashing teeth and heat and when he pulls away David rears up to chase his lips, tugging against the restraints.

“And thank you for the advice, David,” Patrick adds with a grin. “I’m definitely going to take it.” He reaches behind himself to wrap a hand around David’s cock and David sinks his teeth into his lip as he fights for a semblance of control. Patrick maneuvers himself back until David’s dick is pressed up against his entrance and then he bears down slowly, achingly slowly, taking short sharp breaths until just the head is inside.

“Oh, wow,” Patrick whispers, a whole range of emotions flitting over his face, too quick for David to interpret.

“A bit bigger than you’re used to?” David can’t help but tease, and Patrick rolls his eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he replies, but he’s still clearly fighting to get his breathing under control as he adjusts and David wishes he has his hands free so he could touch him reassuringly.

“Seriously, take your time,” he says softly, and Patrick nods.

“I know. It’s not— it feels really fucking good, David, you have no idea. I just… need a minute.”

“I mean, I have some idea,” David says wryly, and Patrick flashes him a quick grin. His breathing has evened out and that’s all the warning David gets before he starts lowering himself down, centimetre by agonising centimetre. Finally, finally he’s sitting flush, David buried inside him, and Patrick just stares at David for a long moment with wild eyes.

“Oh my God, David,” he whispers reverently. He presses up off the bed slowly, experimentally before lowering himself back down. He repeats this a few times, slowly, before he finds a good angle and then he starts riding David in earnest as David digs his fingernails into his palms and tries to keep some semblance of control.

Patrick is gorgeous. David knows this already, of course, but he’s struck by it now in particular when Patrick has his head thrown back in satisfaction, the tendons in his neck that David likes to sink his teeth into on full display. The muscles in his thighs are rippling and flexing with each movement and Patrick’s hands are resting on top of them, fingers digging into the pale flesh. His cock is harder than David’s ever seen it, almost angry in its redness as it juts out in front of him, bouncing obscenely with every motion, steadily leaking all over himself with some dripping down onto David’s stomach. David wants it in his mouth, on his tongue; wants to swallow down the taste of Patrick’s enjoyment. 

David understands suddenly, viscerally, Patrick’s whole service top vibe. He’s never appreciated before this moment just how mind-numbingly hot it can be to watch someone get exactly what they need, see them lose themselves in pleasure, know that they’re— 

“Yellow!” he blurts out, and Patrick freezes.

“Do you need me to—” he starts, but David shakes his head frantically.

“No, no no no, please don’t move. Just— give me a minute,” he pants, focusing on his breathing until the feeling of urgency subsides.

“David,” Patrick says, a delighted grin spreading across his face, “were you going to come?”

David grits his teeth. “Mm-hmm.”

“And safewording was the only way you could avoid that?”

“Okay,” David says, squeezing his eyes shut. “I don’t know what this says about me, but that smug tone is  _ not _ helping my situation right now, so just… shush for a minute, please.” When he opens his eyes again Patrick looks  _ unbearably _ pleased with himself but he doesn’t say another word, just waits patiently for David to take a deep breath and nod.

“Okay, green, I’m good,” he says, and Patrick starts to move again. 

“Yeah, you are,” he gasps. “God, David, that was so good, so hot, you making sure you did what you were told. You’re going to keep being good for me, aren’t you?” 

“Uh-huh,” David manages, and hopes it’s true. He feels like he’s hanging on by a thread but he’d do anything to make Patrick look at him the way he is right now and holding Patrick’s words of praise in his head is all that’s keeping him in control. And he thinks he’s succeeding, at least until Patrick leans forward and rakes the fingernails of both hands across his nipples and rips a truly embarrassing high-pitched noise out of David’s mouth. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, that’s too good, I can’t,” he babbles frantically.

“Oh, I think you can,” Patrick replies, his rhythm never faltering even as he alternates between scratching and pinching and rubbing David’s nipples. Every movement Patrick makes shifts the plug inside him and the torment is exquisite. “I know you can, David, because I want you to.”

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” he whines. He knows, in the tiny fragment of his brain still capable of logical thought, that he can; he could safeword out again and calm down, he could let himself tumble over the edge and Patrick wouldn’t actually be angry. But God, he wants Patrick to get every single thing he wants more than anything, even more than he wants to come right now, and that’s a whole fucking lot. Patrick still isn’t letting up with his fingers and the sharp sting on David’s chest is almost a welcome distraction from the throbbing pulse of his dick where it’s sliding in and out of Patrick who is squeezing around him, all tight heat, and David genuinely can’t tell if he’s doing it on purpose or not.

“You just need to hold on until I come,” Patrick says, and his breath is definitely speeding up, thank God. “You can do that, can’t you?”

“Then  _ fucking touch yourself, _ Patrick, please, I need you to, please, I can’t—” David half-roars and half-begs and Patrick laughs at him, the asshole, even as he drags his fingernails down the soft, sensitive skin of David’s stomach. He leaves them there for a moment that might as well be four hours for the way the anticipation hacks away at the remaining threads of David’s self-control and then he’s slowly, so slowly, unfairly slowly, sliding one hand up his own thigh before finally wrapping it around his dick. Patrick’s gasp of relief is almost drowned out by David’s when he realises the touch has brought Patrick beyond teasing; he’s stroking hard and fast, swiping his thumb over the head and twisting his wrist. He’s jerking himself off like he’s aiming to come as quickly as possible and, contrarily, it makes it easier for David to hold on — his gaze is torn between Patrick’s face, contorted in pleasure and relief, and his cock disappearing and reappearing between his fist.

“David, David, fuck,” Patrick chokes out and then his eyelids flutter shut as his orgasm hits him, so hard it splatters all over David’s stomach and chest and he’s pretty sure even a little bit on his chin. David somehow hangs on to the frayed edges of his self-control through the end of it and then Patrick’s legs seem to give out and David is buried deep, so deep in him and the plug is pressed right up against his prostate and his whole upper body lurches up off the bed as he comes so hard it would hurt if it wasn’t such a fucking relief. He sinks back into the mattress, breathing hard, and Patrick runs his hands softly up David’s sides.

“Holy shit,” Patrick whispers after a moment, and David just nods in agreement. He’s starting to soften and Patrick groans as he realises, lifting up before rolling off to the side in possibly the most undignified manner David’s ever seen him move. He makes quick work of the condom before he pulls himself to his knees and reaches for the closest restraint, undoing it quickly and flexing David’s fingers like he always does, checking the blood flow. He presses a quick kiss to the tips of David’s fingers before leaning over him to repeat the process on the other hand. David drops his arms to his sides and shakes them out as Patrick shuffles down the bed, removing the plug with an apologetic kiss on David’s knee. Once it’s out Patrick gets up off the bed and then winces.

“You okay?” David asks carefully, and Patrick nods.

“Mm. I can feel that. It’s good, though,” he says with a grin as he walks out of the bedroom, plug in hand, David admiring the muscles in his ass flexing as he moves a little unsteadily. When he reappears in the doorway a minute later holding a washcloth, David smiles lazily at him.

“Bow-legged is a good look for you,” he teases, and Patrick snorts.

“Again, don’t flatter yourself,” he shoots back, but David’s pretty sure he exaggerates his limp as he comes back to the bed to clean the cooling come off David’s skin. He pulls back the covers on the side of the bed David’s not lying on top of and David rolls over to that side, dragging the blankets back on top of him and burrowing down as he hears Patrick leave the room to dispose of the cloth.

David’s almost asleep by the time Patrick slips back into the room, and he feels a coolness across his back as Patrick lifts the sheets to slide in behind him. Instead of lying down immediately, though, he stays propped up on one elbow, hovering behind David, almost but not quite touching.

“David?” Patrick whispers hesitantly into the dark; there’s something in his voice, something hopeful and nervous and determined all at once, that is absolutely terrifying and David knows deep down that whatever Patrick wants to say, he’s not ready to hear it. He keeps his eyes closed and his breath even and after a moment Patrick sinks into his pillow with a quiet sigh, his arm curling around David’s hip.

By the time morning rolls around, David will have forgotten this moment, so he won’t be able to dwell on what Patrick was trying to work up the courage to tell him.

**Author's Note:**

> We are now heading straight into CANONICAL ANGST TOWN. I'm going to try to post the next three instalments as close together as possible because I hate angst so, so much, it stresses me out, and I know a lot of readers feel the same way. This means there might be a bit of a gap (depending on how the whole writing thing goes) and then three posted in quick succession. The good news is 4.08 is already written, and so are parts of both 4.07 and 4.09, so hopefully I don't leave you hanging too long.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com).


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